


to show the way

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They’re going to need assistance,” she says, tilting her head. </p>
<p>“I’m going to pay them, Sahara,” he says. </p>
<p>She rolls her eyes. “Psychological assistance.”</p>
<p>Kaleb’s long fingers still for a moment at his cuffs. He blinks slowly. “Would you like to suggest that to Aden, or shall I?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	to show the way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts), [spyglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyglass/gifts).



> Written for the [2014 Fix-It Comment-Fic-A-Thon](http://magisterequitum.livejournal.com/561174.html). Prompt: Psy Changeling, Kaleb/Sahara + Arrows, "I think humans call this psychology."
> 
> Didn't get any Arrows in there. WHOOPS.
> 
> For Jordan.

*

Sahara frowns into her hot chocolate, perched at the kitchen island. 

“Just business,” she repeats, meeting Kaleb’s eyes. 

He fixes his cufflinks without sparing his sleeves a glance, those dark midnight eyes warm on hers. “They are business partners in our new endeavor. Yes,” he says in that cool even tone of his. 

His voice was entirely hot and wicked not an hour ago in the shower, so she is hardly fooled. She crosses her legs at the knee, her skirt loose and flowing around her, and rests her chin in her hand as she settles her elbows on the counter. 

“They’re going to need assistance,” she says, tilting her head. 

“I’m going to pay them, Sahara,” he says. 

She rolls her eyes. “Psychological assistance.”

Kaleb’s long fingers still for a moment at his cuffs. He blinks slowly. “Would you like to suggest that to Aden, or shall I?” 

“It’s not ridiculous,” she retorts. “They will need to learn how to cope with other people, and emotion. They’re going to have to disable some of the protocols, like Judd did. And they’re going to need help when it all begins to process.”

A sigh ripples through him. He shrugs his shoulders, a casual motion only she will ever see. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“You didn’t expect them to stay in their underground lair, did you?” she teases. 

The cool look on his face speaks for himself. 

Sahara sips her hot chocolate and shakes her head. “They’re not tools. If you treat them as such, you’re no better than Ming.” She doesn’t mention Santano; she doesn’t need to. 

“What do you suggest?” he asks after a quiet moment, with just the morning birdsong and the faint whistle of the breeze through the grasses outside between them. 

She smiles. “Let me talk to my father. He might have suggestions.”

Kaleb nods and shifts the conversation to his meetings with Hawke Snow and Lucas Hunter. But she feels the strength and fierceness of his acceptance and love through the bond between them, where she is never alone, and neither is he. 

*

When Kaleb arrives home that evening, Sahara is settled on the outdoor patio, peering intently at her datapad. Print books, all from her father’s office, sit on the glass table in front of her, pages bookmarked. Her morning with Leon was pleasant and fruitful, though she still senses his anxiety concerning her relationship with Kaleb. It will pass, in time. She plans on instituting family dinners – Faith, Vaughn, Judd and the Kincaids included – to integrate the many parts of her new family into one large collective.

Besides, Judd is the closest thing to a brother Sahara thinks he’ll ever have. It is a friendship she wants to support and add to. 

(Kaleb knows little of her plans. She still likes surprising him.)

“What’s all this?” he asks as he sits next to her on the lounger. A warm hand drops to her thigh, rubbing gently. 

She peers at him, starkly beautiful in the late evening sunlight, and smiles. “My father was very helpful.”

“Oh?” he asks, rubbing his thumb along the inside curve of her thigh. 

“He recommended we find a human or changeling with psychological training – because M-Psy won’t be as helpful in that respect,” she says, shaking her head. Her race has done themselves a disservice for the sake of power. “One or two. To visit with the Arrows and help them through the transition away from complete Silence. Someone who will help them with their emotional and mental needs.”

Kaleb watches her as she speaks, his eyes trained on hers. She sets the datapad aside and shifts towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He cups her at the waist and pulls her across his lap, enclosing her in his broad shoulders. For a man conceived in no emotion or desire, starved of pleasant physical touch, he soaks her up like a sponge. She wants it that way, wants to be a foundation for him. The charms from her bracelet brush his throat as she tunnels her fingers into his hair, mussing his icy perfection. 

“They just can’t be weapons,” she murmurs, kissing his brow. “They have to have the same chance we do. This will help. And will provide more integrations between the races.”

She can feel his half-smile more than see it. _You’ve thought about this thoroughly_.

_Yes_ , she thinks to him. With Kaleb as an example of what happens without affection, without emotion, without support – yes, she has thought about the others like him quite a bit. 

(He would say that there is no one like him. He would be right. Still, the connection lingers.)

“We’ll propose it to Aden,” he says after a quiet moment, his mouth at her throat. His hair sinks like silk over her bared shoulder, the sleeve of her top sliding over her upper arm. A large hand slips under the hem of her skirt. She smiles against his temple, stroking her fingers over the nape of his neck. “It is a good idea.”

She leans back and grins, her hands shifting to cup his face. “If it works for the Arrows, the general populace may need it too.”

“They can’t figure that out on their own?” he asks dryly. 

“We have to be examples, Kaleb,” she says with a light laugh. “For everyone. That’s what running the show means.”

“And here I was thinking it meant all-consuming power and the ability to give you everything you want,” he says evenly.

_You made a joke_ , she thinks with delight as she leans into kiss him, his mouth opening hungry and warm under hers. 

_Did I?,_ he asks as his hands slide under her skirt to the bare skin of her inner thighs. She shifts on his lap and shuts her eyes with a soft low sound. Heat shimmers between them and under their skins, the gold-black bond vibrating with want. When he shifts her back to lay under him on the lounger, she drags her hands over his shirt, plucking at the buttons. 

“I think they ought to get pets,” she says out loud as Kaleb’s mouth suckles at her neck, marking her with wet soft bites. She pushes the shirt from his shoulders, reveling in delicious toned skin. _Mine_ , she thinks with a savage sort of possession. The bond shudders in response. 

“Who?” he asks, voice like gravel as his hands grip her thighs. 

“The Arrows.”

Kaleb lets out a slow exhale against her collarbones. She tests her nails against the smooth skin of his back, thinks of how she will drape herself over him in the late night hours, all warm skin and the pulse of blood and promises between them. 

“I think Aden might like cats,” she says, teasing him as she arches her hips against his. 

Raising his head, he blinks obsidian eyes at her, his cheeks flushed with want. 

“I think in this moment, I don’t give a damn,” he says, throat taut. 

A frisson of desire shudders through her. She tugs him down for a long slow kiss, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. When his strong fingers slide between her thighs, she forgets the Arrows entirely. For the time being. 

“I do think pets would be a good idea,” she says much later, dressed only in his button-down shirt. She sits on the kitchen counter, watching as he prepares a meal for himself. She wants to give him all the tastes he’s abstained from for so long; but baby steps, she thinks. 

Shirtless and only in his boxers, Kaleb glances at her. His dark curls fall over his brow. The eagle tattoo at his forearm settles her. _I love you,_ she thinks without hesitation, telling him so. She will tell him always. 

“For just the Arrows?” he asks. 

She toys with the hem of his shirt as it rests at her thighs. “Well. We talked about a dog, once,” she says. In the gardens of her home, between math problems and French lessons. Little Sahara always wanted a dog, and when she was a teen, dreaming of their first future, she always pictured them with one. 

His hand curls around hers, their fingers intertwining. She looks up. 

“We did,” he says quietly. “We can again.”

_I love you too,_ he says to her in her mind, and Sahara smiles as widely as she ever has. 

*


End file.
